


The 90s Kids Are Alright

by thefanboyfiles



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, First Time, Fluff, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, It's totally the 90s, M/M, Peter Hale is practically a beach bum, Skateboarding AU, skater!Derek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-12
Updated: 2014-02-12
Packaged: 2018-01-12 01:11:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1180130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thefanboyfiles/pseuds/thefanboyfiles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles knows he should hate Derek. After all, Derek almost broke Isaac's leg. Even if it was an accident, he should stick by his friends when they confront Derek about it. But he can't bring himself to hate Derek at all.</p><p>In fact, he thinks Derek Hale is like, totally radical.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The 90s Kids Are Alright

“Oh my god Scott, this is like something out of The Warriors,” Stiles says, zipping up his hoodie.

The sun's not even down yet but the October air is cold enough to make him shiver. He can't leave Scott and the gang alone, though. He knows he's usually the voice of reason and he's hoping he can talk some sense into them if worst comes to worst.

“Dude that guy almost broke Isaac's leg,” Scott says. He has a look on his face that Stiles guesses is supposed to be intimidating but, no, Scott is too adorable to ever look angry.

“What happened exactly?” Stiles asks.

Isaac lifts up his pant leg to reveal a large, purple bruise on his shin and Stiles cringes at the sight of it. “We were at the skate park and he crashed into me and I ate shit. It was probably an accident. The bruise is pretty gnarly, though.”

Scott shakes his head. “It wasn't an accident. That guy's had it out for us since we started skating there.”

“Where are the girls?” Stiles asks.

“They'll be here later. Allison said she wanted to go home to get her BB gun,” Scott replies.

Stiles face palms. “Seriously? A BB gun? So we're a gang now?”

Scott looks over at Stiles. “He's not going to get away with hurting Isaac,” he says seriously.

“Okay, while this whole overprotective boyfriend thing is cute and all, what if he shows up with back up? In case you haven't noticed we aren't exactly pro wrestlers. And didn't you say this guy was big?” Stiles asks.

Stiles hears a gun pump and a familiar voice coming from behind him. “We can take him.”

It's Allison and Lydia, both of them with their hair in ponytails, holding BB guns in their hands like they're going into battle.

Stiles looks at Lydia wide-eyed because although he expects this from Allison, Lydia is usually somewhat reasonable.

“What? Better safe than sorry,” Lydia says.

Stiles rolls his eyes. “Can we all just take a moment to remember that my dad is the Sheri-”

“Here they come!” Scott says, looking toward the distance.

Stiles sees a guy and a girl skating toward them. The girl is pretty and young, with brown hair and a soft face. And the guy is-

_Holy shit._

Stiles isn't really into the whole grunge thing, he's more of a Cranberries kind of dude, but this guy is enough to change his mind. He has a buzz cut, chiseled jaw and his green eyes are abso-fucking-lutely piercing even from a distance. He's wearing an unbuttoned plaid shirt with no undershirt and Stiles wonders how it's possible for a guy that is probably no older than eighteen to be so ripped.

Stiles takes a deep breath because he's about to be beat up by the hottest guy currently living.

They stop in front of Stiles and the rest.

“So, we're here,” he says.

Scott walks up to the guy. “What's your problem?”

“I told you it was an accident. I didn't mean to crash into your friend,” he replies.

"My _boyfriend_ ,” Scott says, irritated.

“Fine, whatever. I told you both I was sorry. I don't know what else you want from me.”

“I want to know why you've been acting so messed up toward us since we started going to the skate park. We've never even talked to you. I don't even know your name,” Scott says.

Lydia sighs. “It's a territory thing, I bet. Guys are stupid about things like that.”

“...Says the crazy red head with a gun,” the young brunette standing next to the guy says.

Lydia looks back at her with her mouth open.

The guy looks over at her. “Cora, it's fine. Don't argue with them.” He turns back around toward Scott. “I don't know what you think is going on, but I don't have anything against you or your friends. And my name is Derek.”

He turns to look at Stiles for the first time and Stiles feels like his skin is on fire. He can't even imagine how red he must look.

He turns back to Scott. “But word of advice,” he continues, “Amateurs should stay off the half pipe.”

Scott shoves him. “Fuck you! We're not amateurs!”

Derek clenches his jaw and steps forward like he's about to lunge at Scott but Stiles steps in between them. He stretches his arms out to keep them apart, and nearly loses his shit when he feels Derek's rock hard chest.

Derek looks down at Stiles' hand on his chest and then up at Stiles.

“Okay, look, Derek, I don't know you but you seem like a chill dude. Can we please just mellow out?” Stiles says.

“Tell that to your friend,” Derek says.

Stiles looks over at Scott. “Come on Scott, this isn't you. He said he was sorry, just let it go man.”

Scott looks back at Stiles like he's been betrayed. “Whatever, let's go guys,” he says, before turning to walk away. The rest of the gang lingers for a second before following him.

Stiles stays behind, although he's not really sure why.

“Aren't you going to go with them?” Derek asks.

“You didn't do it on purpose, did you?” Stiles asks sincerely.

The expression on Derek's face softens slightly. “No. It was an accident.”

Stiles nods and they both stare at each other silently for a little too long.

“What are you two doing?” Cora asks.

Stiles forgot that she was even there and apparently so did Derek because he turns to look at her in a daze. “What?”

Cora gives Derek a weird look and then laughs. “I'm gonna take off. Catch you at home later or whenever,” she says, before skating away.

“She's spunky,” Stiles says.

“Yeah,” Derek says, looking at Stiles again. “Are you gonna...”

“Yeah!” Stiles says before Derek even finishes. “Wait, what?”

“Oh I just wanted to ask if you were going to go join your friends.”

“I think I'll let them cool down for a little while.”

“Cool.”

“Yeah,” Stiles says. He doesn't know what else to say but he can't make himself walk away so he settles for standing there awkwardly.

“Well, uh,” Derek looks away and scratches the back of his head, “I'm headed down to the beach to check out the fireworks show they're having tonight.”

“Oh. Sounds rad,” Stiles says while kicking a small rock around with his shoe.

“Do you want to come with me? I mean if you're not busy...”

Stiles head shoots up. He feels his insides somersault, but he wants to play it cool. “Sure man.”

“Where's your skateboard?” Derek asks.

“Oh, I don't skate,” Stiles says, and braces himself for Derek's disappointment.

Derek grins slightly. “All your friends are skaters...”

Stiles laughs and rubs the back of his neck. “Yeah, I know. I'm sort of like the dork of the group. I'm basically Screech.”

Derek shakes his head. “No way.”

Stiles blushes and turns away. “So, uh, do you want to just walk there?”

“Sure.”  
-  
Derek isn't what Stiles expected him to be. He comes off as serious, solemn even, and he seems to have trouble making eye contact, but he smiles every so often in a way that is painfully cute. Stiles even thinks he's a little on the shy side, which is strange considering that, in his experience, guys that look like Derek are definitely not shy.

They walk down the tree-lined streets of Santa Monica toward the beach. The sun has just gone down and the ocean is just barely visible in the distance.

“So do you live here?” Stiles asks.

“Yeah. What about you?”

“Nah. I _wish_ we could afford a place here. My dad and I live near downtown.”

“Cool.”

Stiles wipes his hands on his pants. He didn't realize they were sweating so much.

“So what do you do for fun?” Stiles asks and immediately cringes inside because he's pretty sure that's something only a kindergartener asks. What is he gonna ask next? What Derek wants to be when he grows up?

“Well besides skateboarding, I like to write. I want to be an author,” Derek answers sincerely.

“Oh, that's awesome!” Stiles says. “I write too. Well, sorta. Just shitty X-Files fanfiction stories.”

Stiles doesn't know exactly what's compelling him to blurt out embarrassing things, but he thinks it has something to do with how distracting Derek is when he licks his lips. They're just slightly chapped, probably from the brisk autumn wind, and Derek has to continually lick them to keep them wet.

“I love the X-Files,” Derek replies, licking his lips again.

“Chapstick?”

Derek looks at Stiles, puzzled. “What?”

“Do you want some Chapstick?” Stiles asks again and reaches into his pocket for the small tube.

They've stopped at a red light. Cars swoop past them as they wait for the signal to change.

Derek looks at Stiles. “You sure?”

“I don't have any diseases or anything if that's what you're worried about,” Stiles says.

Derek smirks and takes the Chapstick. Stiles watches as he uncaps it and brings it up to his mouth. He glides the balm across his red lips and Stiles can almost _taste_ them.

But he should probably stop staring.

He turns away just as the light changes to green. Derek hands him back the tube. “Thanks dude.”

“Don't mention it.”  
-  
By the time they get to the beach, the pier is already packed with spectators waiting for fireworks. Someone is blasting 'Jump' by Kriss Kross on a boombox and Stiles wishes he'd brought ear plugs because that song is the equivalent of nails-on-chalkboard to him.

“Do you think maybe we could find a spot where there aren't so many people?” Stiles asks over the noise.

Derek looks around. “Follow me.”

Derek leads Stiles to the small aquarium at the end of the pier. It's an old two-story building, weathered but charming, with a large sculpture of a shark just outside the door.

Derek reaches into his pocket for his keys and unlocks the door.

Stiles eyes him curiously. “How come you have a key?” 

Derek swings the door open and holds it so Stiles can walk in, which makes Stiles stupidly happy for some reason. “My uncle owns the place. I work here during the summer and stuff.”

“He wont mind us coming in like this?”

“Not really,” Derek says and closes the door behind him. “But let's keep the lights off so no one thinks that it's open or anything.”

Stiles nods as he looks around. The only light is coming from the different fish tanks and exhibits. They cast a blue glow on the room, just enough so Stiles can see where he's going.

He paces around the room and looks at the collection of fishes and other sea animals. “This is really cool. I've never been in here.”

“Yeah. Most people haven't. Peter, my uncle, likes to keep the collection small. There's a few rooms in the back that people use as labs for research. I guess that's the main purpose of this building.”

Stiles is transfixed by a beautiful white sea anemone in one of the tanks, so much so that he doesn't notice that Derek's walked up behind him, standing so close that when he speaks, Stiles almost jumps with surprise. “It's beautiful.”

“Uh. Yeah,” Stiles says, swallowing hard.

They're both jolted out of the moment by the sound of fireworks outside. The room lights up in different colors.

“Let's go upstairs. We can look from the balcony,” Derek says and they walk up a narrow set of stairs leading to the second floor.

Derek slides the glass door leading to the balcony open and they walk outside. There's a few lawn chairs set out and they each take a seat.

Stiles shivers a little and wraps his arms around himself as he looks up to the bright lights exploding in the night sky. “Damn, it's cold as fuck.”

“It's not too bad. The breeze feels nice,” Derek says.

Stiles looks over at him and sees that he's taken off his flannel shirt. Derek's physique is unbelievable. He's muscular, but not so much so that he's bulky. Stiles notices what looks like burn scars on his shoulder.

“They're burns from a house fire I was in when I was a kid,” Derek says.

Stiles looks away immediately and feels his heart drop. “Sorry, I didn't mean to stare.”

“It's okay.”

They look at the fireworks silently for a while. Green flashes, then blue, then red, are reflected on the ocean. There's a few clouds in the sky and they scatter the light beautifully.

“You're shivering,” Derek says.

“Yeah. I guess I don't have any tolerance for cold weather,” Stiles replies, shrugging.

Derek grabs his flannel shirt and hands it to Stiles, “Here.”

Their eyes meet and Stiles takes it slowly. “Uh, th- thanks.”

He puts hit on and his whole body tingles with the warmth of Derek's shirt. He can smell Derek's deodorant on it, pleasant but not overpowering.

Stiles can't help smiling in a stupidly smug way. He thinks about the gesture. It's not something friends do, is it? Not guy friends at least. Stiles doesn't know a lot about romance, he's never even kissed anyone, but the way Derek looked at him feels-

“Right,” Derek says.

Stiles looks at him, shocked.

“Look to your right,” Derek repeats. “I think they're getting ready for the finale at the end of the pier.”

Stiles blushes and looks to his right. “Awesome.”

There's even more people on the pier now. Stiles recognizes some familiar faces. “Hey, Lydia and Allison are over there. I wonder if the others are with them.”

“Which one is the redhead?” Derek asks.

“Uh- Lydia.”

“Is she single?”

Disappointment hits Stiles so hard it almost knocks him off the chair. Of course Derek is straight. He feels stupid for thinking otherwise.

“Yeah,” Stiles answers quietly. “Why, are you interested?” he adds because apparently he wants to torture himself more.

Derek shakes his head. “No. But my friend Boyd kind of digs her. We always see her at the skate park and I've been encouraging him to talk to her but he's sort of shy.”

“Oh,” Stiles replies. There's a little glimmer of hope after all.

“I don't like chicks, you know, in a romantic way,” Derek says.

Okay, maybe a huge glimmer. Maybe a fucking supernova.

“Do you?” Derek asks.

Just as Stiles is about to answer an enormous rainbow-colored explosion goes off in the sky. Stiles would laugh at how absurdly appropriate that was if he wasn't chocked up with nerves.

He turns to answer Derek but Derek's looking up at the lights. More of them go off, filling up the entire sky. People clap and cheer.

It takes a few seconds for everything to quiet down.

“To answer your question,” Stiles says, swallowing hard, “I'm not into girls either.”

Derek looks at him. “Do you have any clue how gorgeous you are?”

There are two things going through Stiles' mind:  
1\. Fuuuuuuuuuck  
2\. What?

“What?” Stiles asks.

“Oh fuck dude, sorry. That probably came off- forget it. Uh, we better go anyway,” Derek says all in one breath and quickly gets up to walk back inside.

Stiles just sits there stunned as Derek slides open the glass door and walks back inside.

It takes him a few seconds to come back to Earth and realize he's alone outside. He gets up to walk into the aquarium but stubs his toe on a cinder block. Even though he's wearing shoes, it sends a sharp, shooting pain up his foot. “Ow! Fuck! Ow! Ow! Owowowowowow.”

“Stiles? You okay?” Derek says, peaking his head back out.

“I stubbed my toe and it's literally worse than being stabbed,” Stiles says, cringing.

“Here, sit back down,” Derek says, and grabs Stiles by the arm to lead him down to the lawn chair.  
Stiles grabs his foot and tilts his head back. The throbbing pain isn't getting any better. “Okay, I so don't want to be a baby about this but can you just punch me and knock me out until the pain goes away?”

“Let me take a look, just in case it's broken,” Derek says and before Stiles knows it, Derek is kneeling down and untying his laces and taking off his shoe. His long eye lashes cast shadows under his eyes, which he has furrowed like he's in deep contemplation.

“I don't want to look. There's probably blood everywhere!” Stiles says.

Derek slides off his sock. Stiles shuts his eyes. Derek gently grasps Stiles' foot in his hand and it sends a chill through his body. “Doesn't look like there's any damage. It's just a little red.”

“Really?” Stiles asks, opening one eye. “Dude, now I totally look like a baby.”

Derek smiles and Stiles thinks about how he could really get used to seeing that smile everyday.

“I read somewhere that since there's very little tissue on your toes, pain can be really intense when you hurt them. The same with hands,” Derek says.

He's still holding on to Stiles' foot. The pain is slowly drifting away.

“I hope my foot doesn't smell,” Stiles says. Because of course he does.

“Not at all,” Derek answers right away. He looks down and notices the scar on Stiles' heel. “What's this?”

“Oh, uh...” Stiles looks away, embarrassed. “When I was a kid I was in a bad car accident with my mom. She was killed,” Stiles sighs, “I survived but my legs were banged up pretty bad. I still have scars all over them. They're gross, I know. I never wear shorts.”

Derek shakes his head and sits down next to Stiles on the chair. There's barely enough room for the both of them, so their hips are touching. “Don't say that.”

Stiles shrugs. He really doesn't want to seem like more of a crybaby so he doesn't meet Derek's gaze.

Derek places his hand softly on Stiles' chin and turns his head around so that they're seeing each other eye-to-eye. “Don't say that, okay?” Derek repeats.

Stiles nods and a tear falls down his cheek.

Derek brings his hand down and rests it on the other side of Stiles' hip. Stiles reaches up and runs his hand across the burn scars on Derek's shoulder. “Do they hurt?” Stiles asks, quietly.

“Sometimes,” Derek says.

“Mine too.”

Derek wont stop looking at him but Stiles can't bring himself to match his gaze for more than a few seconds. He brings his hand down from Derek's shoulder.

“You make me shy,” Stiles says, blushing. Once again he scolds himself for having the flirting skills of a six year old.

Derek takes a hold of Stiles' hand. He brings it up toward his mouth and just let's it rest there. Stiles can feel his warm breath on his skin.

Stiles takes a deep breath. He does it to try to calm himself down but when he exhales his breath is shaky anyway. He's never been treated like this before, and he can't really believe that a guy like Derek is the one doing it. A panicked thought crosses his mind that this is all a part of a cruel, elaborate joke. Maybe there's a group of guys hiding in the aquarium waiting for the right time to spring out. Maybe this isn't real at all.

But then Derek moves closer. Stiles knows he's going in for the kiss, and any thought of this being a joke drifts away.

“Stiles...” Derek says. He's so close that Stiles can make out every individual hair in his perfect, dark stubble.

“Yeah?” Stiles whispers.

Derek doesn't answer and instead brings their lips together. His lips are soft, so soft, so much softer than Stiles had imagined them being. Of course, he doesn't have any other lips to compare them too since this is his first, but he's pretty sure not everyone is blessed with lips like this. The stubble around Derek's mouth is rough against Stiles' skin as Derek slips his tongue into Stiles.

_So this is why people write songs about this_ , Stiles thinks.

He's pretty sure the kiss is awkward on his part. He doesn't know exactly what to do and all of the blood that's supposed to be flooding toward his brain is heading toward his cock.

Derek takes Stiles bottom lip into his mouth which earns a “Nnnggg” sound from Stiles.

Stiles pulls away, trying to catch his breath.

Derek looks at him, concerned. “Are you okay?” His lips are wet and Stiles thinks about how it's his saliva that wet them. He's the reason Derek's lips are slightly swollen and his cheeks are flushed.

That's enough to give Stiles a boost of courage. He leans in to take Derek's lips again, this time with more conviction. They kiss deeply, relinquishing any doubt that they both really, really want this.

Derek readjusts himself on the chair and straddles Stiles. He can feel Derek's hard cock through his pants. They grind together and Derek reaches his head down to run his tongue down Stiles' neck.

“You're unbelievable,” Derek says, panting.

“Me!?” Stiles asks, his voice cracking like he's just hit puberty. Derek's tongue tickles him and sends a shiver down his spine.

Derek stops and sits up straight. His body looks unbelievable from this angle, the moonlight hitting him in such a way that every curve in his musculature is emphasized.

“Yes, you,” Derek says, grinning. It feels like a grin that not a lot of people get to see, naughty and mischievous, so unlike the shy Derek that Stiles was getting to know earlier in the day. “You really have no idea how fucking hot you are.”

Just as Stiles is about to answer, a light goes on in the aquarium.

“Shit. It's Peter,” Derek says.

He gets off Stiles and jumps on the chair next to him.

“What do I do?” Stiles asks.

“It's cool. Just act natural.”

Stiles hears footsteps going up the stairs and a man's voice. “Derek? Is that you?”

“Yeah! I'm out here!” Derek replies.

Stiles places his hands over his crotch to hide his hard-on.

When Peter walks outside Stiles thinks about how little resemblance there is between Derek and his uncle. Peter is hot too, for sure, but in a different way. His features are more precise, his face less round, his neck thicker, his hair lighter. Stiles wouldn't think of them being related if it wasn't for Peter's body which has the same kind of lithe athleticism as Derek's.

He's also wearing a Hawaiian shirt. Stiles is pretty sure Derek doesn't own a Hawaiian shirt.

“What are you doing here?” Peter asks.

“I'm just here with my friend. We were looking at the fireworks,” Derek answers.

Peter notices Stiles for the first time and grins from ear to ear. “That's cute.”

“Peter...” Derek starts, annoyed.

He walks toward Stiles and extends his hand. “I'm Peter.”

Stiles shakes his hand. “Stiles. N-nice to meet you.”

“Enjoying the fireworks, ey?” Peter asks.

“Uh, yeah,” Stiles says, chuckling nervously.

Peter laughs. “Oh come on guys, there's no need to act so nervous! You act like I was never a teenager. I had flings on the beach too, you know. One time I met this surfer dude down below the pier and he gave me the best-”

“Peter!” Derek says, aggravated. He covers his face with his hands. “Can you please...just...”

Peter puts his hands up. “Alright, alright.” He starts to walk back inside. “Just make sure to turn off the silent alarm next time so I wont think you're a thief out to steal my fish.”

Derek's head slumps down.

“I'm leaving a condom by the door just in case!” Peter yells just before walking out.

Once he's gone, Derek looks up at Stiles, blushing. “I am so, so sorry.”

Stiles laughs. “Are you kidding? He's awesome.”

“Yeah, well, you try living with a 40 year old man who listens to gangsta rap and watches Pauly Shore movies.”

Stiles laughs again. “Okay, that's pretty bad. But I still think he's cool.”

Derek smiles. “I'm glad he didn't scare you away.”

“Does he usually scare away your dates?” Stiles asks.

Derek snorts. “What dates?”

Stiles rolls his eyes. “Don't give me that, dude. I'm pretty sure even a straight guy would fuck you.”

“Would you fuck me?” Derek asks.

Stiles' eyes go wide. He wasn't ready for that.

“Well?” Derek asks, the corner of his mouth turning up slightly.

“You have to buy me dinner first,” Stiles answers nervously, but what he really means is YES OH DEAR FUCK YES I WOULD.

“Do you like pizza?” Derek asks, giving Stiles the same devilish grin from a few minutes ago.

“Dude, who doesn't like pizza?”


End file.
